Worshipping the Goddesses
by Travelingthrough
Summary: Fluff set in an imagined future where Lisbon and Jane are together. Possibly just a story about socks.


Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me, am simply borrowing them for the purposes of this story.

AN: This is fluff, set in some imagined date in the future where Lisbon and Jane are together as a couple. Really, it's a story about socks.

Worshipping the Goddesses

Lisbon yawns and burrows further into the slightly rough sheets of her hotel bed. She has been up for close to thirty two hours and is almost desperate for the respite of sleep. But, as usual lately, being in her _own _bed has become unfamiliar and the simulacrum of home comfort has to be drawn from uncomfortable, unfamiliar hotel beds.

Thankfully she has other means of drawing comfort these days.

Jane lifts the quilt and slides back in under the covers, seeking the warmth and succour of Lisbon almost as soon as he is in the bed.

"Jesus Jane, you're freezing."

"Well, its cold out there my dear – and you're warm so I'm unable to keep my hands to myself."

He slides his hand underneath her shirt and pulls Lisbon to rest against his body. She is small in his arms, and he very much enjoys this new feeling of being able to _surround _her with his body and his warmth, and affection.

"You need to wear some clothes, Jane. I get that its cold outside; it's why we're stuck here but is it too much to ask for you to just put on some clothes."

"And I for one am delighted to be _stuck _here in Boston with you. The inclement weather and our cancelled flights means I get to sleep here with you instead of attempting to sleep on a plane. And you are one to talk, my dear, about clothes as this doesn't seem to provide much protection from the cold."

He moves his hands from where they have been resting against her stomach to skim them down the smooth length of her bare legs, kissing her neck fondly in appreciation of the unspeakable gift of having Lisbon in his arms.

"Maybe not, but I like it. And I have actual pyjamas in my bag – unlike you."

He kisses her neck again, squeezing her waist affectionately as he returns his hands to their previous resting place of underneath the shirt she wears.

"You are wearing my t-shirt dear; you have lost the right to claim the higher ground when talking to me about what clothes I happen to be wearing at this point."

She takes his left hand in her own and holds it against her lips, kissing him softly in apology and sincere warmth.

"I like this t-shirt; I have a sentimental attachment to it."

He chuckles against her skin, and moves their joined hands to rest on her stomach again – unspeakably happy that she is snug, content and seemingly _happy _to be lying in his arms.

"_Sentimental._ Is that how you are characterising it darling, I would call it by a different name. As I recall – and believe me, I do it often in exquisite detail – this was the t-shirt I was wearing when you decided to attack me and indulge all your womanly urges."

He smiles when he feels her sigh, almost her whole body seems to shrug against him in response to his teasing. He kisses her ear, on the particular spot he discovered on _that _night that makes her liquid in his arms.

"Jane, stop talking your nonsense. I need to sleep, we both need to sleep."

"Stop trying to change the subject and deny your _womanly urges."_

"You say that once more, and I will never indulge a single one of your _urges _every again."

He softly bites her neck and smiles as she squirms, wonderfully, against him.

"You're a cruel woman, but I don't believe you for a second. You are wearing my t-shirt remember Lisbon, my very sentimental darling. But don't worry, I'll keep that you like to wear my clothes to myself."

"Hush. We should sleep, and if you won't let me sleep then I'm going to send you back to your own perfectly good hotel room."

"It's cold out there Lisbon, _you wouldn't."_

"I would. You shouldn't even be in here, we need to be careful. We are not the only ones grounded here; I don't want Fischer or Abbott to find out about us like this. We need to be careful while we're working and be more cautious with how we are around each other."

"You don't want Fischer and Abbott to find out about us _any _way my dear."

He softens the meaning behind his words with a gentle kiss to her shoulder, leaving his lips against her when he might have pulled away. He knows she is anxious about being found out, but he needs her to realise he is similarly as anxious about marking his place in her life.

"We've only been together a few weeks, Jane. I need a little time before I am comfortable telling them."

"We've _been together, _as you call it, seven weeks and three days, and I am patiently waiting the day when you accept that those days and weeks will stretch out into forever. You can have all the time you need my dear before we share our relationship with our colleagues, I merely want you to accept that our time will be infinite. I want you to believe me when I tell you that I am here for good, and never straying from your very lovely side, ever again."

Lisbon sighs again, part weariness and part exasperation. She is uncomfortable to be drawn in the role of the reluctant partner – or the one who has doesn't _believe _in them. She wants to yell at him _I gave up my life for you, I always have. _But she is silent, knowing an argument will benefit neither of them – and knowing that he loves her just as much as she loves him. But it's the transient nature of his history that she worries about.

Lisbon wants to close her eyes and sleep beside the only man she has ever really wanted to share her life with. She wants to be held, which is something she has only come to realise these last seven weeks and three days – and mostly she wants peace. And she acknowledges that will only be achieved if she confesses that which she is afraid of. Well, _more _afraid of than the exposure of their very recent relationship.

She turns around in Jane's arms and settles again on her pillow so that she can look into the sleepy eyes of her lover. He leans forward to kiss her softly and for a few precious moments she delights in the luxury of being openly adored.

"Okay, Lisbon what is it that's on that lovely mind of yours. You have those adorable little lines on your brow which usually mean I am causing you stress, which I have to object to right now frankly. I am here with you, and I am very clearly happy to be here."

He draws her further against his body, to emphasise how very happy he is to be beside her. She kisses his bare shoulder and smiles against his skin, happiest when he is honest and relaxed and playful with her as he is now.

"We need to sleep Jane, despite how _happy _you are to be here."

"I know you need to sleep; about six hours ago I considered taking my life in my hands and hypnotising you so that you might get some rest. I am delighted my sense of self- preservation prevailed and that gave you enough time to solve the case my dear. Your brilliance makes working here so much more fun, and so unbelievably satisfying. I am delighted every day that Abbott is gradually realising how irreplaceable _you _are to this team. It's one of the sources of my daily joy. But the main joy in my life is – as you might guess – you and the bonus of getting to go to sleep beside you. Tonight I know we won't sleep until you confess what is on that peerless mind of yours."

Sometimes she wishes she had fallen for someone less verbal, maybe for a guy who would be happy with great sex, laughter and maybe a shared place to sleep at the end of the day. And other times she knows she would simply have endured the rest of her life, half of her heart somewhere else, if Jane had not come back to her.

Lisbon wants to tell him that she wants permanence. She wants to tell him she wants open promises of permanence but also demonstrable gestures of this _forever _he talks about. But she has never had such an important conversation with anyone before, and she can't quite find the words to tell him she wants commitment. Probably because she can't quite allow herself to consider the implications of her wanting commitment, and all of the changes this would bring.

"Hey, Teresa stop thinking so much and just tell me. Just tell me, darling."

He kisses her cheek – perfect, soft, adoring, wet kisses all the way to her ear. She closes her eyes and prays for strength.

"I want you to buy clothes."

She closes her eyes again, this time sighing at her own clumsiness and to try and give herself a few seconds away from the penetrating gaze of the man who shares her bed.

"You want me to buy clothes, we're back to that."

She sighs, again, knowing that she is going to have to confess all of her fears to him so that he might understand her current preoccupation with him extending his wardrobe.

"You have one pair of shoes, one pair of socks; you don't have a coat…"

"I have a coat. You bought me a coat, and I love it. I've been wearing it in this awful weather for the last five days. And I love my socks, which you must remember you bought me too… I don't need other things my dear, I'm happy with what I have."

"You own one pair of socks, which you wash every night. That isn't normal Patrick. I had to buy you a coat because I was afraid you would die from exposure when we got here. I don't know why you can't see the problems here."

She moves to turn around, choosing to withdraw from the argument rather than expose her fears. He catches her shoulder, keeping her with him – holding her against his body so that he can keep her focus on their discussion.

"Don't do that, Teresa, don't turn away from me. I want to understand why my clothes have you so concerned. You know I don't care about things like that, you know that."

He lifts her fingers in his own and twins their fingers together, resting their joined hands on the pillow space between them.

"I know you don't, I just wish you did. I want you to take care of yourself; I want you to take _better _care of yourself."

"Okay, but I've been enjoying you taking care of me. It's been a long time since anyone has been concerned about me like you have. I know you're one of only two people in my life who has worried about whether or not I'm cold, or have socks. It's made me very happy to be taken care of like that, Teresa."

This time he kisses their joined hands, moving them to rest them against his chest as he moves closer to her in the hotel bed. He kisses her shoulder through her shirt, breathing in her scent and her strength.

"You make me very happy Teresa; I wish that didn't scare you so much."

At his words she moves away from him and leaves the bed they have been sharing. He sits up in surprise, watching as she paces back and forth across the small hotel room.

"For such a smart man you can be so clueless sometimes, you know."

She has stopped her pacing and instead stands at the bottom of the bed. He wants to tell her how unbelievably gorgeous she is in the too large t-shirt, her hair tousled and begging for his touch. He keeps these thoughts to himself, knowing that he owes her more considered attention right now – fearful suddenly of what he might have missed.

"Tell me dear, tell me what I'm so clueless about and I'll change it. I promise."

She sits down on the edge of the bed, and he reaches out to hold her hand. He releases a breath he hadn't realised he was holding when she clutches his hand with her usual eagerness and simplicity.

"I want you to buy clothes."

"Okay."

"But you don't get it, do you?"

"You want me to look better at work, I understand. I'll take my guidance from Cho and invest in some decent suits and will look more like _the man _for you. I promise. Now come back to bed, it's too cold out there, and I need my Lisbon blanket in here."

She stays sitting on the bed but moves her free hand to join her other one in clutching his hand. She wants to say the right words to him but is afraid she has made an issue where there is none. Suddenly – violently – she yearns for her mom. She wants someone to tell her what to do, and wants someone to tell her how to love.

"I don't care about how you look at work Jane. I care about you."

He has been watching her struggle with whatever she is trying to confess to him, and he has allowed her to keep her distance but he can no longer bear the look of utter misery on her face. He wraps his arms around her slight frame and hugs her against his body. He breathes easier when she wraps her arms around him just as tightly. He rubs his nose against her cheek and whispers against her skin that he loves her, tightening his arms around her body in an attempt to convince her of his truth and devotion.

"Tell me what's bothering you dear, just say it. I promise I'll listen."

She moves out of his hold to take his face between the palms of her hands – her honest eyes have never had a more significant effect on him than they do now. He knows, _knows, _that she loves him when she looks at him like this. He smiles and suddenly Lisbon realises all she has to do is tell him. All she has ever had to do it tell him.

"You don't take care of yourself, and I want you to stop. You don't allow yourself _anything. _I need that to stop. You tell me that you want me to accept that you are here forever, and I want to but I can't believe that when you own one pair of shoes and socks."

Jane leans his forehead against Lisbon and sighs with relief that this problem is apparently easily resolved.

"You bought me those socks, and I love them. And I like my shoes, I don't want more. But you're afraid I'm not staying because I have no possessions and can leave just as easily as I arrived, that's what has you worried, isn't it darling?"

She nods her agreement and hides her head in apparent embarrassment against his neck.

"Okay, let me tell you about the roots I've been putting down but first you have to get under these covers with me before we both freeze."

So Lisbon returns to her side of the bed, self- consciously staying apart from Jane until they have resolved her issues. She acknowledges that she would agree to almost anything he says when he touches her and speaks to her with words of love and affection. So she hovers on the edge of the bed and waits for what he has to say.

"I didn't realise this had you so worried my dear. When we get back – when this snow clears enough that we have to leave this bed and this hotel room – then I'm going shopping and I'll buy suits and sweaters, and shirts and any other clothes you want me to beginning with _s… _Excluding socks, I think I'd like it if you were to buy me all the socks I'll ever need. Put them in that drawer in your bedroom with all your lace and cotton and silk, leave them in there and they will remind you that I am always going to be here. I promise. And if the socks are not enough then we can talk about buying an apartment or a house or whatever you want."

Her eyes are wide and brimming with tears and he wants to hug her and apologise for all the many times he has let her down in their history. He needs to prove to her that he will never consciously do that in the future.

"I'll buy clothes darling, I'll leave clutter all over your apartment, I'll attempt to take better care of myself but you have to promise that you'll never doubt my desire to stay. And you must never think admitting these worries, or even yelling at me about not owning a suitable coat is going to hurt me or make me run. It tells me you care about me, and every time I'll wear my new coat or those precious socks you bought me I know that I have a partner in the world who loves and cares for me. It's a gift Teresa to have someone to care for, and to be cared for in return. I promise I'm always going to care for you, you just have to give me the years ahead to prove it."

She moves closer to him in the bed and smiles when his hand curves around her hip and settles her against him.

"I can't decide whether you are the most complicated man I've ever met or the exact opposite. But I do care, and this wasn't about me trying to get my own way. I do want to look after you, and the sock buying I will happily do if that's what you want."

"I'm staying dear."

He rubs his thumb across her hip, sliding his fingers underneath her shirt so that he might touch her skin.

"I'm staying. You don't need to worry about that. I'm staying. I'll whisper that to you every day when you wake up, and every night when you go to sleep if you want me to."

He kisses her this time, properly and the way he has been thinking about since he first got her alone in this hotel room. He slides his hands to cradle her face and kisses her breathlessly and until she is reciprocally breathless. They lose themselves in this new passion for long minutes, whispering words of affection and adoration freely now that they are truly alone.

"I have been making efforts to end my nomadic existence, I have been paying attention to the forming of my new rituals that will mark all the days of the rest of my life."

"What does that mean, have you started a book club with Cho?"

He laughs against her neck, delighting that he gets to see this side of Lisbon. No one else will ever get to see Teresa laugh in quite this way; this realisation is what first prompted him to devote such attention to committing every millimetre of her skin, every muscle and sinew of her body to memory.

"I haven't started a book club with Cho, though that idea does have merits. No, Teresa, my new ritual is you – and that lovely body of yours. I've been paying attention to all of your beautiful attributes and giving them names."

"You've been _naming my body parts."_

"Well when you say it like that it sounds a little strange, but I assure you it's done with my complete love and adoration and is a clear signal I am staying – I wouldn't have started doing this if I hadn't planned on being around forever."

"Some shirts in a drawer, and telling me you're staying would work just as well you know."

"Nonsense my darling not when you have shoulders as perfect as this."

He surprises her by moving his hands to the bottom of her shirt and in one movement he removes it from her body and throws it from the bed. He traces her collar bone with his finger tips and looks at her with a possession in his eyes she doesn't recognise.

"This, my dear, this beautiful place here is Hera – Queen of the heavens."

He ignores her sighs and look of bewilderment as he kisses his way down her body – resting his head between her breasts as he lavishes seductive kisses there.

"This, beautiful, bewitching part of your body is Aphrodite – goddess of beauty, love, desire and pleasure. I will truly spend a lot of time trying to understand and possess Aphrodite."

She is laughing now, not quite believing the truth behind his words of affection.

Jane kisses his way back up her body this time, he finishes by resting his lips on her forehead as he curls his arms around her.

"Here, my dear, is where Athena resides. Goddess of wisdom, courage, strength and law and justice – also known for her especially bright, green eyes. I can't think of a more perfect name for you."

"Well Teresa works for most people…"

He smiles his dazzling full smile at her and kisses her nose.

"Those are my favourite Greek names for you but I have Roman names for your biceps and your thighs and your ears, don't you want me to go on…"

"No sweetheart, I'm sure those will keep for another day. Let's sleep."

He halts the trail of his fingers across her lower back and moves to rest his head back on his own pillow.

"Are you okay? You can tell me about my _ears _if you really want to, but I might start hallucinating if I don't sleep soon."

"You called me sweetheart."

"I did not."

"You did, my dear – just now you most certainly called me _sweetheart."_

"I did not, now go to sleep."

"You did, it will be burned on my memory forever. The first time Teresa Lisbon called me sweetheart."

"You're delusional Jane. Hush and go to sleep, and come here…"

She crawls across the bed towards him, sliding her leg over his to curl properly around him. He settles his lips against her neck and sighs in contentment.

"You called me sweetheart, my dear. Boston is now officially my second favourite place in the world, the place where Teresa Lisbon first…"

"Will you hush about it? If I call you it again will you go to sleep?"

He kisses any of her skin that he can reach and sighs _please _into her hair.

"Go to sleep sweetheart, I'll be here when you waken up."

He tightens his hold on her, whispers again that he loves her and resolves to tell her about his fondness for Roman Goddesses in the morning.

And he closes his eyes and plans on buying cupboards full of shirts, anything to erase the fears of the woman in his arms.

He promises himself if she indulges his talk of goddesses he will move on to all of those parts of her he has named after titans…

He closes his eyes and dreams of green eyes, warm arms, and forever.


End file.
